


Message Not Delivered

by divinestydia



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 6a, F/M, Lydia's POV, Missing Scene, Stydia, Wild Hunt, ghost riders, lydia martin x stiles stilinski, lydia x stiles, martinki, missing stydia scene, stiles stilinski x lydia martin - Freeform, stiles x lydia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-10-20 05:43:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17616605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/divinestydia/pseuds/divinestydia
Summary: Lydia tried to say it back.





	Message Not Delivered

The incandescent glow casts blinding light on milky features, pulsing & fading in the hazy moon kissed darkness of Lydia's bedroom. Why her phone keeps lighting up makes no sense as she has no recent notifications. Checking her inbox to find it empty, she feels another poignant void in her life. Something's missing. _**Someone's** missing_.

It haunts every space, every crack, every figment of her memory until nothing is untouched by absence and all she has remaining is the echoed few words & deeply melancholic, wistful scene. There's something she didn't get to return. It crushes her. Delicate fingers tap the glass screen frantically to find her missing contact in a place she hadn't checked. Scrolling and scrolling, there's one entry without a name or photo. It has to be the one she's looking for, even if the number seems unfamiliar. _There's still something she has to say_ , compelling her to lunacy in ways even she wouldn't understand herself under a normal scenario but the desperate impulse consumes her. She has to tell him, say it back, let him know.

I LOVE YOU.

Staring at her screen in the middle of the night, Lydia hopes to make a connection but somehow the message unsurprisingly fails. She taps the prompt to try it again, even double texting it just in case but it's not sending. Instead, the bubbled symbol exclaims not delivered. She can't even reach out via transmitted data, and her last traces of hope are wavering. The complexity of the supernatural universe is even cruel with electronic science, but she tries again. Finger pads type dementedly, and she feels like she can't even breathe unless she knows the other party sees this & knows (but the laws of the universe might complicate this).

I LOVE YOU.

                                                                             I LOVE YOU.

                                                                                                                                        I LOVE YOU.

                                                                                                                                                                              I LOVE YOU.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                   I LOVE YOU.

                                                                                                                                              I LOVE YOU.

                                                                                                           I LOVE YOU.                                                    I LOVE YOU.                                         I LOVE YOU.                   I LOVE YOU.

                                                                                                                                                                                                             I LOVE YOU.

It must have sent nearly 30 times, a frenetic & emotional formulation contrasting with the strawberry blonde's composure. Nothing happens, as if she just tried to make contact with an abyss of nothing and she's disenchanted. She can't get to her ghosted soulmate. Balsam hues crystallize with tears spilling down the curves of pale cheeks when she can't seem to push through the membrane separating dimensions, no matter what she applies.

She sits hauntedly for what feels like forever, plush petals compressed to silence an audible sob.

 _What if she never gets to tell him_?


End file.
